


It's Snape

by glacis



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 20:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glacis/pseuds/glacis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron is finally the first in his family to do something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Snape

It's Snape, by seeker.  Written for the Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest (Snape/Ron pairing)

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"I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left -- Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron wanted to do something. Anything. As long as he was the first in his family to do it. He wanted with every fiber of his long, lean, carrot-topped, befreckled being to be the first Weasley to do ... something.

Unfortunately, perhaps, for him, one of the innumerable times he poured his 'last in line lament' in Harry's ear, Draco Malfoy was listening.

Not surprising that the ferret should be eavesdropping. He was always hanging about trying to find a way to get Harry chucked from school, or insult Ron's wallet, or malign Hermione's heritage. He was a sneaky, underhanded, rotten snake ... well, he was Slytherin. Which said it all, really.

So perhaps he should've been expecting the sneak attack as he trudged down the stairs, Harry at his side, to serve the latest detention Snape sentenced them to. But his mind was on Quidditch, and not where he was going, and so when the spell came out of nowhere, and Harry bent down to tie his shoe, and Snape came out of his office at the exact same moment ... later, when the blush finally died down enough one could see his freckles again, not just a single solid mass of red skin (took about a month) it was funny. Sort of. Malfoy always cocked it up, trying to take down Harry, but on the scroll of major fuck-ups, this one topped the list.

Things were a bit of a blur, helpfully clarified by Harry after the fact, when it was all too late to do anything to help. At the time, the only thing Ron knew was there were fuchsia and neon blue sparkles in the air, then he was trampling Harry into the wall to get to Snape, who suddenly appeared to be the epitome of desires he never knew he had.

Poor Snape.

Never thought he'd ever think that, but the man, great wizard or not, didn't stand a chance. Ron leapt on him like a dog on a bone, or Sirius on Remus when he didn't know the boys were watching. Pinned the Potions Professor up against the wall, ripped his robe open from neck to hem with one mighty heave, yanked his trousers open just far enough to get his prick out. Then Ron was down on his knees between Snape's splayed legs sucking like his life depended on it.

One never knew, of course, with a Malfoy spell. Maybe it did.

The prick was long and narrow, soft when he started, but he didn't let that stop him. Ignoring everything in his sudden hunger to drink Snape dry, Ron swallowed and sucked and mumbled desperately against the hot silky skin, and very soon indeed it was nicely wet. Leaking like a cracked cauldron, it was.

Harry squawked unintelligibly in the background, Malfoy yelled his head off from the side, and Snape tugged helplessly at his hair, telling him to stop being such a ridiculous nincompoop and stop that right this instant and holy god whatever you do don't stop that.

Ron wondered why he'd never noticed what a bloody lovely voice Snape had. Maybe because he'd never heard it break quite like that before.

Whatever the reason, for the first time in his life, he listened to his Potions professor, particularly when the break in his brilliant voice was followed by a moan and the word "yes, yes, yes" started rolling over his head in beautifully rounded tones.

Then came a snarled "Back off, Malfoy!" in Harry's voice, and Malfoy's "But! But!" followed by the sound of a good old-fashioned fistfight. Ron would have bet on Harry, since Malfoy wasn't much good even with his wand and a total pussy without it, but his hands had clamped onto Snape's hips and he couldn't let go.

His eyes closed and his throat opened, something he hadn't known he could do until he did it. Snape let out another one of those brilliant breathy moans. It ran down Ron's backbone like warm water, and settled in his crotch, kicking up the heat quite a bit. Not thinking about it, not that he'd done any thinking since he'd started the insanity, he unclenched one hand and dug into his trousers until his fingers closed around his own prick.

From there on in it was nothing but faster, and fiercer, and humping against Snape helplessly as he sucked as hard as he could, as deep as he could. With a bellow that sounded like bells in Ron's head, Snape came down his throat. Ron hung on and swallowed as fast as he could as Snape shot, his fist tightening around his own prick until it spasmed. As Snape pushed the last of his spunk down Ron's throat, Ron shot messily all over Snape's leg.

Coming shut off the compulsion abruptly, and Ron froze. His eyes opened slowly. The head of Snape's prick was caught between his lips. He glanced down. His come was dripping into Snape's shoe. He winced, and glanced up. Normally glacial black eyes, now dazed, looked like they were trying very hard to glare but had forgotten how.

Even as he watched, they cleared.

Iced over.

One brow rose slowly.

Ron tried to duck his head, and Snape gasped helplessly, reminding Ron that Snape's prick was still in his mouth. Unthinkingly, he gave it a little lick before letting go. That brought forth another gasp, but thankfully it also discomfited the professor enough that he shoved Ron back with one hand, stuffed his spent prick back in his trousers with the other, and stalked away.

Robe flapping. Shoe squishing.

Eyes closing again as his shoulders hunched up around his ears, Ron leaned forward until his forehead rested against the stone wall where Snape had been pinned. It was still warm from his body. He felt his prick give a twitch.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled. Forcing himself to his feet, he turned around a tad unsteadily, to see Harry, one eye blackening and a feral grin on his face, glasses askew, pounding the crap out of Malfoy, who sprawled, bloodily, beneath him.

Not bothering to interfere with Harry's fun, sure he'd hear the complete play-by-play later, Ron trudged back up the stairs. Not if You-Know-Who himself pointed a wand at him and told him to go back would he serve his detention now. Scrubbing cauldrons would have to wait.

He was pretty sure Snape wouldn't complain.

About that, anyway.

Not until he got his breath back, at least.

Compulsively wiping his hand on his trousers, Ron tramped through the common room and up to his bed, where he stripped down, climbed in, stuck his head under the pillow and refused to come out.

The next morning at breakfast, he came in last, peering about cautiously. Malfoy, lip still swollen and with a bandage across his forehead, glared at him from the Slytherin table. Harry, eye looking much better and still with a trace of that feral grin, nodded at him. Hermione looked confused and intent, the way she did when she read something she didn't understand in a book. He thought of it as her 'get to the bottom of it' look. It frightened him.

Up at the head table, Snape glared at his plate and gave off enough anti-social vibrations to scare any sane person into hermithood.

That was a relief.

Ron sidled up to the Gryffindor table and took his place between Hermione and Harry. Before she could begin to grill him, Harry said, "Malfoy's got detention plus lost fifty points for Slytherin, for unsafe magical practice. Snape's not talking, but our detentions are off. That's a good sign, eh?" He grinned.

Knowing he was going to have to explain to Hermione eventually, Ron sighed. He opened his mouth to say ... something ... anything to her, then shut it again. She patted his hand, the intent look softening a little. He blushed. Then he glanced disconsolately at Harry.

"I'm finally the first in my family to do something ... and it's Snape."

Hadn't been what he meant to say, but it was too late to call it back. The rest of the table was still choking on breakfast when Hermione dragged him off to begin the interrogation.

Much, much later, after missing two classes (a first for Miss Granger), Ron grinned over at his new and quite affectionate girlfriend, and decided it might almost have been worth it.

Until Snape walked by. Glared at them both, with extra heat for Ron, without saying a word.

And Ron discovered the urge to pin him to the wall and ravish him was still there.

Lurking.

He was still blushing days later.

He never did explain, to Hermione or anyone else, precisely why. He just shrugged, blushed a little harder, and mumbled, "It's Snape."

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END


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